From the Tulara Ravine to Lessu
by Kgirl1
Summary: Kanan, Hera and Zeb celebrate a successful mission at the local cantina. By the time they make it back to the Ghost, Hera's singing. Can be read as a companion to Caf Break. Pre-Rebels.


**A/N: This began in response to a throwaway comment in "Caf Break" (I'm having a _really_ productive writing weekend, in case you guys haven't been checking your emails; my doc manager is full, which to me is one of the best feelings ever). It's been nice doing lighthearted stuff for the space family, as opposed to the equally good but far more heartstring-tugging stories about Jacen, or Hera grieving Kanan's death. I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

In hindsight, celebrating their mission's success at the local dive bar probably hadn't been the _best_ idea, but thanks to their collective fatigue-clouded judgment, it had happened anyway. The three of them were exhausted, sore, and a good stack of credits richer, and they'd all been up for at least 36 hours straight (Hera, as usual, had been awake even longer), which was probably why, when Zeb suggested they deserved a drink for a job well done, nobody had the presence of mind to protest.

One drink turned into two, two drinks turned into three… It didn't help that the bartender, who'd had an eye on Hera from the moment they walked in the door, had been pouring hers exceptionally strong (of course, Kanan knew the moment they walked in the door that never in a million years would he let _that_ happen), and she was far too exhausted to tell the difference. He'd cut himself off as soon as he'd noticed her head listing to the side, and soon enough, they were on their way back to the _Ghost,_ Hera between, or really supported by, depending who you asked the next morning, Zeb and Kanan.

"Call me," the bartender yelled after her.

"I will," Hera called back.

Once they were outside, her voice dropped, and she whispered conspiratorially to Zeb and Kanan, "I'm not gonna call him."

The three of them dissolved into a fit of laughter. They teetered and tottered back to the _Ghost,_ leaning on each other and finding humor in undeserving subjects. When they finally made it to their cabins, Zeb retreated into his with a wave goodnight, leaving Kanan with Hera. Later, the Jedi would look back and wondered if Zeb had done that as an intentional favor to him, or out of thoughtless exhaustion. (It was likely the latter, but Zeb was full of surprises.)

"Well," Kanan cleared his throat, "You should probably get some sleep."

"I'm not tired," she told him, with all the posture of a youngling who'd been told it was time for bed.

"Hera, you've been up for almost 40 hours—"

"I'm not _tiiired,"_ she sang, leaping down the corridor. She stumbled a bit, laughing, before catching her balance. "And I'm the captain, so you can't tell me what to do. Ha!" Hera put her hands on her hips. Kanan stifled a laugh at the sight of her: pilot's cap askew, cheeks flushed from alcohol, eyes bright, if a little unfocused, standing in the middle of the hallway with her feet planted like she was about to start a revolution.

"I'm just saying, I think it would be a good idea for you to get some sleep," he said, holding his hands up placatingly.

"And _I'm_ just saying, I think you should not tell me what to do. Nope!" She twirled around, and Kanan couldn't help but laugh.

" _You cannot tell me what to do, because I am in charge of you,"_ she sang, fluttering her fingers at him.

"Oh, we're singing now, is that it?" He raised an eyebrow.

" _Yes,"_ she replied, still singing. _"We have to sing everything we sa-ay."_

"I really think we should go to bed—"

" _I really think you're not sing-ing,"_ she trilled. Kanan chuckled.

"It's not so hard," Hera told him, switching back to speaking. "On Ryloth, we sing _all of the time."_

"Oh yeah? What do you sing?" he asked.

" _Happy songs,"_ her voice was light. _"Love songs. Sometimes sad songs,"_ she dropped an octave.

Kanan couldn't keep the grin off his lips. "You should sing one for me."

Hera never would have met this request sober, but drunk, she was more than happy to oblige.

"This one is a love song," she told him. "Ready?"

"Ready," Kanan nodded, stifling a chuckle.

She cleared her throat theatrically and drew in a deep breath. _"I love yoooou, and I'll always be truuuue. From the Tulara Ravine to Lessuuuuuu,"_ she sang. _"And if it's myyyyy heart you choose to breaaaaak, that'd be okay, for I love youuuuuu."_

Kanan applauded. Hera regarded him smugly.

"I made that one up," she said with a grin.

"Really?" His eyebrows went up.

"Mhm," Hera nodded. "The songs are all in Twi'leki, not basic, silly." She giggled.

"Right, of course," Kanan said. He pretended to check his wrist for a chrono, even though he wasn't wearing one. "Hey, it's getting pretty late—"

"I can do a Twi'leki one, if you want," Hera said.

"Oh, that's okay—"

She was already belting. _"FIRITH DEI MEL CAZNE, KARAWN ENDEL REE, ROOOOOOL—"_

"Okay, okay, Hera," Kanan was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. She had her arms flung out and was singing the song with all her might. "That's plenty. Very…" He wiped a tear of mirth from his eye. "Very beautiful."

"Thank you," she said, giving a curtsy and then nearly falling over. Kanan chuckled and went to support her, placing her arm around his shoulders.

"Let's get you into bed," he said.

"But I'm not _tired,"_ she said.

"I know, but I am," he said. "And once you go to your bed, I can go to mine."

"You should go out and scrub the carbon scoring off the ship, that's what you should do," she said, sounding petulant as he guided her toward her cabin. "You're not even halfway done."

"Alright, Hera," Kanan said, rolling his eyes. At least drunk Hera and sober Hera shared priorities. Once in her cabin, she slipped out from under his arm and stood in the center of the room, giving a twirl.

"See?" she said, ending with her hands on her hips. "Still not tired."

"Well, maybe if you put some sleepwear on," Kanan said.

Her mouth dropped open.

" _Kanan,"_ Hera said, leaning in with her voice low and hushed. She gaped at him with wide eyes. "I can't put my sleepwear on if you're _in here."_

Kanan smacked a palm to his forehead. "You're right," he said. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Hera spread her hands as if she couldn't, in fact, believe he hadn't thought of that.

"Here, you put them on, and I just won't look," he said.

She frowned at him, suspicious.

"You have to shut your eyes," she said.

"Okay, Hera. I'll shut my eyes."

"And face the wall."

With his eyes closed, he turned around. "Okay, facing the wall."

"And cover them with your hands."

"Okay."

"And sing a song, so you don't hear anything."

"Hera." He nearly turned around and uncovered his eyes just so he could give her a look of exasperation. "Seriously?"

"Fine," she said. _"I'll_ sing one. Just… don't look."

"I won't," Kanan said, with his hands over his eyes.

Hera flitted around the room and began to hum, something slow and rhythmic, nothing like the spirited ballad she'd belted out earlier. The humming grew into Twi'leki, and the lyrics were mournful, beautiful, elegiac. Her voice echoed softly around the tiny cabin, and Kanan felt himself brought back in time to when they'd first met, to when he'd first heard that voice and known he would follow it to the ends of the galaxy. She sang like she'd forgotten he was there, the tune curling around him and slipping between his ribs, and he was crushed when the song drifted to a stop. He blinked as if waking up from a dream.

"You can open your eyes now," Hera said. She was lying in her bunk, the sheets pulled up to her chin.

"See? I'm in bed," she said. "Are you happy now?"

"Ecstatic," he chuckled. Hera yawned, and he took a few steps closer, kneeling at the edge of the bunk.

"Hera… what's that song called?" he asked.

She blinked sleepily up at him. "Ka're."

"It's… it's lovely," he said.

"I didn't write it," she said.

He chuckled. "That's okay."

She looked up at him, and he found himself gazing back at her, captivated as it was still so easy to be.

After a moment, she raised her hand to her mouth and said in a stage-whisper, "Kanan, if I have to sleep, you do too."

Kanan chuckled and stood up. "Right. Sorry." He looked at her one last time. "Goodnight, Hera."

She yawned, turning on her side. "Goodnight."

Kanan slipped out the door and moved toward his cabin, but, feeling alert, took a detour to the fresher. As he started to shower, he found himself humming, and by the time he was drying off, he'd moved into the lyrics.

" _I love you, and I'll always be true,"_ he murmured, _"From the Tulara Ravine to Lessu…"_

He made his way down the hall and toward his room. He could still hear her voice, echoing in his head, and he sang quietly along as he put on sleepwear.

" _And if it's my, heart you choose to break, that'd be okay, for I love you…"_


End file.
